As obituaries go, it wasn’t quite the watershed moment for guys as the deaths of John Wayne or the Oldsmobile.
Still, Thursday’s demise of the Men’s Dress Furnishings Association, which represented America’s necktie makers, caught my eye.
Age: 60. Cause of death: casual Fridays and the general decline in men’s dress standards in this country, which reduced the organization’s membership from 120 to 25.
If you’re a man of a certain age, taught by dad to tie a four-in-hand or half-Windsor knot by your 12th birthday, you probably saw this one coming.
Mark Reed did. He owns Homer Reed Ltd., the venerable men’s clothier that has operated in downtown Denver since his father opened it in 1951.
“We used to sell 100 ties at noon each day,” Reed told me on Friday. “This was in the 1960s, when ties were $2 apiece. Now we sell about 400 or 500 a month.
“It’s the relaxed atmosphere at work,” he said. “Guys buy ties for special events, not for work. Maybe they own one or two. They used to own closetfuls.”
For the record, Reed was not wearing a tie, although his sportscoat sported a silk pocket square.
Sales of neckties, that Father’s Day staple, are declining. From a $1.3 billion peak in 1995, sales dropped to less than $678 million during the 12 months ending March 31, reported market researcher NPD Group.
A Gallup poll revealed the number of men who wore ties to work each day fell to 6 percent in 2007.
John Martin, who works in the financial industry, was returning from lunch Friday on Tremont Street. He wore gabardine pants and a button-down shirt, but the tie was nowhere to be seen.
Yes, his was a casual Friday workplace.
“I actually wish people would go back to them,” Martin said. “It’s a more finished look and it’s also a psychological presence. It’s just more professional.”
Brave words, but he wasn’t stepping up to lead the charge.
It’s partly a peer thing. Ties are a bit constricting, even on shirts with proper collar sizes. If no one else is wearing one, well, why should you take it in the neck?
For my first two decades in this business, I wore a tie to work every day. This included 14 years in Phoenix, a city that once shut down its airport for a day because the mercury hit 122 degrees and planes sank into the runways.
Then I came to the Post, where almost no one wears neckties. Within two years, neither was I.
Maybe it’s just a function of living in the West, where neckwear traditionally leaned toward bandannas and bolo ties.
Then again, maybe it’s a generational thing.
Take Sean Jenkins, 28. This isn’t some slacker who lives on a skateboard. When I crossed paths with him he sported a sleek gray suit and a brilliant white shirt with French cuffs.
Sharp, to be sure. But no tie.
“It’s just not the look for me,” he told me. “I associate it with older guys like lawyers. Why would I want to wrap something around my neck?”
There was a classic episode of “The Andy Griffith Show” where mountaineer Briscoe Darling balked at donning a tie for a wedding: “Ever since I saw a hangin’, I been nervous about wearin’ one of these things.”
For many guys, the necktie’s party has come to an end.
William Porter writes Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Reach him at wporter@denverpost.com or 303-954-1977.
